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What is the most interesting thing you've caught in the Bywater Pool?

Originally Posted by OliveYew

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Hmm.. interesting. The weirdest thing I've fished up in the bywater pool..... that would have to be a drake, poor confused lad. Well, He was when I hit him on the head with my hammer! He must have stumbled down from the north, in a drunken mess. I followed his trail, as a self-respecting hunter would, to see if I could find out more about his "journey" and all I found was a few scorch paths on the rocks... a few tree trunks... he must've been angry.

Other than Rotten Vegetables? ...a RAINBOW! (Gotta love those Rainbows.)

“Some believe it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. It is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay; Small acts of kindness and love. Why Bilbo Baggins? Perhaps because I am afraid, and he gives me courage.” ~J.R.R. Tolkien

cheese

Fate draws me to bucolic lands, green hills crossed by the web of many a whispering stream.
There dwell small folk, provincial and weary, mindful of their own affairs.
They come to know me, fair elf maid, old and kind, traveler on a long journey, come to rest.
Lazy days pass, down by the river, spent in conversation and song, like a warm dream.

At the Bywater lies a bridge, built not so long ago, sturdy and rustic, pastoral, like a painting.
I walk there sometimes, the cool water lapping at my naked feet, lost in a reverie of thoughts both happy and blue.
It was there I found a locket of brass and silver, ancient, the picture inside of some distant sister, and I wonder what became of her.
Thoughts rush forth, laughter and pain, a soul tormented by her misfortune, yearning.

The moon waxes gibbous, sailing with the rising stars, wheeling in the sky, beconning.
My vigil bears fruit for walking through swaying reeds, her face a mask of sadness, I glimpse a lovely shade.
She feels my presence, curious yet frightened, looking upon the locket held out to her, then flees.
Each evening I come forth, earning a small measure of her trust, talking of my day, spinning stories, singing.

In time she regains her voice and meanders to my side; We repose together in the gloaming, sharing our joy and melancholy, growing our mutual esteem.
She drowned here, refused the call West, alone and confused, lonely and full of grief.
Friendship blossoms in the fertile soil of shared experience and kindred natures, leading to hope kindled and promises sworn.
Now she travels with me, beloved ghostly sister, her locket near my heart, found at the Bywater, that painting of a bridge on a stream.

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“wandering in the summer in the woods of Neldoreth [Beren] came upon Lúthien, daughter of Thingol and Melian, at a time of evening under moonrise, as she danced upon the unfading grass in the glades beside Esgalduin. Then all memory of his pain departed from him, and he fell into an enchantment; for Lúthien was the most beautiful of all the Children of Ilúvatar. Blue was her raiment as the unclouded heaven, but her eyes were grey as the starlit evening; her mantle was sewn with golden flowers, but her hair was dark as the shadows of twilight. As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness; and in her face was a shining light.

But she vanished from his sigh; and he became dumb, as one that is bound under a spell, and he strayed long in the woods, wild and wary as a beast, seeking for her. In his heart he called her Tinúviel, that signifies Nightingale, daughter of twilight, in the Grey-elven tongue, for he knew no other name for her. And he saw her afar as leaves in the winds of autumn, and in winter as a star upon a hill, but a chain was upon his limbs.” JRR. Tolkiens The Simarillion